Déclin du jour
by almuvira
Summary: *Originally Blue Hour, I didn't really like the name* AU. Alice Swan, daughter of our Bella decides to start fresh after her mother's funeral. In London. Watch out, vampries about.
1. An Occasion

**ALMUVIRA'S NOTE: Edward didn't come back in New Moon. Jacob and Bella didn't end up together after New Moon. Bella slowly tried to move on with her life. The rest will be unfolded in the story. I hope you like my first attempt at a multi-chaptered fanfiction. Please read and review :)  
**ALSO names that are or similar to those from Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series are owned by HER. She is the Queen, HOWEVER the Alice in the beginning is NOT Alice Cullen.

NOTE ON THE NAME: not sure if I'm 100% happy with it, but 'Blue Hour' (or _l'heure bleu) _is what photographers or artists refer to twilight as. So in a way this is like another 'Twilight'. Read it and you'll see what I mean.

**________________________________________**

AN OCCASION

"_Tell me the one about the mirrors!" _I remembered demanding. The bedtime story my mother had only told me because I wouldn't stop demanding a new one had become one of my favourites. I knew that the one about the meadow or the beautiful white house would have been the more predictable favourite for a little girl, but the story my mother had told me about the mirror-room was my favourite. I was only eight so most nights my mum would be reluctant to tell me a story with that amount of action. That night she gave in and began telling me my favourite tale.

"_His calm and polite voice surprised her when she picked up the phone expecting it to be her mother. 'Be very careful not to say anything until I tell you to.' He said, with the perfect articulation of an earlier century."_

I remembered my mother's face as she told me the story. She told it as if she was speaking from her memories. One time I remember seeing her wince as she became a little too descriptive about the events that occurred in the mirror room. Usually she would have skipped over that part with minimal information and then would pick up with her usual detail when Anthony saved her. I remember wishing that some day I would be in a life threatening situation like Marie, in my mum's stories, and my soul mate would come and rescue me.

I looked down at my lap and studied the black lace gloves that enveloped my hands. It had become too painful to remember her again. I was told to think about her and not block out emotions, so that eventually I'd get used to it. I would never get used to it.

My mother and I had been so close, it always seemed as though we were on exactly the same wavelength. We knew what the other was thinking, feeling, talking about almost all the time. The only times were those nights on her birthdays. I tried not to think about those, especially not today.

I felt a warm arm around my shoulder. It helped even though I didn't think anything could today. He always had a connection with her, and today that connection was what I needed, something to tell me she wasn't gone. Uncle Jake kissed the top of my head and I saw a giant tear drop on my lap but it wasn't mine. I looked up at his face; it looked as though it had barely aged from the days when I was young. I put my head on his shoulder and my eyes seemed to follow his example. I felt new tears fall on my lap, and this time they were my own.

"It's okay Alice," he whispered into my hair, "You know that she'll always be with us."

And just like always his words were exactly what I needed. Uncle Jake wasn't really my uncle by blood, but he and my mother shared a very unique relationship, that even I never understood. 'Best friends' was a complete understatement to what they were, and they most certainly were not lovers. Perhaps you could call them soul mates, with no underlying romantic feelings. Before Uncle Jake met Aunt Louise, he and my mother were inseparable. And even after that they still saw each other often, and my mum would confide things in him that she couldn't confide in me. When they talked I could tell more was being said through their eye contact and old shared secrets, than through what was being said aloud. I wondered how Uncle Jake would live without my mom. I began to sob harder, trying my hardest to stay quite and not disrupt the ceremony.

"Alice," my birth father came up to me at the reception. He seemed uncomfortable about this being our first reunion in 3 years. I wasn't uncomfortable about this, today was no day for those kinds of petty emotions.

"Hi…. dad, how're you doing?" I wasn't really sure if a man who left us when I was seven could really count as a dad. But my mother had made us stay in touch and have as much of a father-daughter relationship as we could, up until I was seventeen and refused to see him anymore.

"I'm okay," He said, looking around, searching for what to say next "What about you?"

"I'm coping." And truly I was. Her death wasn't a shock anymore; I had had many months to prepare for it. And my mother made sure I did prepare for it, she would never want me to stop being happy because of her. When I had first found out me being happy at all seemed like an impossibility but soon I became less numb and more aware of the situation I began to see hope in the life I was soon going to have to live.

"_Don't you dare ruin your life just because you won't be able to see me anymore." She said sternly, looking at me with an intense expression. "And just because you can't see me, it does not mean I won't be there watching your every move, guiding you, helping you and loving you from wherever it is I'll be."_

_I couldn't speak, I couldn't even breathe. We never purposely avoided the subject of the looming future ahead of her, but we also barely ever spoke about it. Today was the first time she had spoken to me like this. She found me crying in a fetal position in our large yard. When I saw her watching me in shock I saw an expression on her face that I couldn't identify, it was only there for a second but in that moment I knew that she was not only pained from my pain but from something else. However I didn't have time to interpret her facial expression because it soon turned to the worry I was so familiar with._

The awkward silence between my father and I continued until Uncle Jake joined us and put a protective arm around my shoulders.

"Hello Jacob." My father said, as politely as he could, though composure was never one of his strong points.

"Hello David." Uncle Jake said using the exact same tone as my father. There was another silence where no one knew what to say, but I felt safe under Uncle Jake's protective, russet-coloured arm. David never liked Uncle Jake, I think it was because he was jealous of the connection my mother and Jake had. The feeling between my birth father and uncle was mutual. Uncle Jake hated David. It was easy enough to understand that the main man in my mother's life for so many years would hate the one who took her away and then left her and her new daughter. But I always had a feeling that there was more to it than that. Once I remember Uncle Jake saying that David reminded him of somebody he once knew a long time ago but he never said anything on that topic again.

"I'm going to go get some food." And even though I had no actual intention of eating on this day, I knew I needed to same something to break the growing silence.

"I'll join you." Uncle Jake volunteered and we both walked away from David, all three of us feeling the same relief at the conclusion of the forced politeness.

Uncle Jake sighed loudly and I laughed at his visible relief of getting away.

"Sorry Alice," he said looking at me apologetically, "I've never really liked that man."

"Neither have I." I confessed quietly. It was sad to think that I didn't like the only birth family I had left but it was the truth, and the one thing I'd learnt in these past few months was to always tell the truth.

He opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again, deciding against whatever he was about to say. And even though he didn't say anything, I could feel he was about to mention her and it made my throat begin to feel as if it was closing up. I could feel the tears beginning to well up. I knew that I needed to get away as quickly as I could.

"Sorry Uncle Jake." I said quickly before I rushed off to my car. I could feel the tears brimming over as I exited my grandfather's house. When I finally got to the privacy and safety of my car I quickly wiped underneath my eyes and turned on my engine. As much as I wanted to I couldn't let go of my emotions there, I had to be completely alone before I let the tears run.


	2. Learning to Breathe

**Here goes my second chapter. I hope you find the references to the books, (some are more subtle than others). By the way you cannot imagine how happy I was with the reaction I got from the first chapter, I almost started crying when I saw that people had favourited it and reviewed it (yep, I'm pretty emotional). So here is the second, I hope I got the feelings right. Review please, and don't be afraid to criticize anything that is bad! **

2. LEARNING TO BREATHE

While I drove, not knowing where I was going, I distracted myself by staring at the trees and nature around me. It sure was beautiful, a very nice place to rest in peace. However for some reason Uncle Jake was very upset at my mother for wanting to be 'scattered' here. When he found out about this wish I remember I saw him crying.

"_After all this time Bella?" He asked her_

"_Please Jake, I know you understand." She pleaded looking at him with tired eyes. I heard them talking in hushed voices when I went to ask if either of them wanted any dinner. What stopped me from intruding was the sound of my uncle crying. Uncle Jake never cried, he was always strong, always someone to lean on. An unbreakable fortress to keep you safe._

"_I _don't_ understand, Bella. And near the _house_ as well? Why would you want that? I thought you'd gotten over –" But before he could continue he turned around and looked at the half closed door which I had only just managed to hide behind. I walked away leaving them in private, Uncle Jake would know if I was still there, he had amazingly good hearing.._

I remember wondering what was so wrong with being buried near the house, however soon I found out that it wasn't near grandad's house, it was actually pretty far, and her ashes were to be scattered in the river near the Olympic Range. As I drove I realized I was looking for that precise river. I desperately wanted to know what was wrong with the beautiful place I had heard about. But soon driving became too hard because as much as I was trying not to, I couldn't stop thinking about her. Breathing was becoming more and more difficult and I could feel myself tearing at the uneven and rushed seams I had tried so very hard to sew inside my chest. I clutched the steering wheel with one hand and I pull the other around my stomach trying to hold myself together. Soon my vision began to blur as tears filled my eyes and I pulled over onto a rough patch of grass knowing driving now would be too dangerous.

I only managed to walk a little way away from my car before I completely crumbled into a broken heap. This pain would take some getting used to, that was for sure.

I sobbed loudly, almost screaming from the pain, then at other times I cried silently, whimpering quietly wishing for someone to help me hold myself together. I tried to remember every little detail of our life, every laugh, every fight, every tear. It hurt me so much; each memory stabbed me harder than the last. I welcomed the pain, I was glad about the pain. I finally felt like I was getting what I deserved, for losing my mother, for letting the one person who ever understood me die.

Soon my tears stopped flowing and I was completely silent with only the occasional shaky inhale. I watched the sky slowly become darker as night began to descend upon me. When I eventually mustered the strength to stand up I saw that it was my favourite time of the day: twilight. We called it 'Blue Hour' in photography class. I had been obsessed with the way the sky looked at this time ever since I could remember.

"_The sky is so pretty right now mommy." I said looking out the window of the car as we drove home from Uncle Jake's._

"_It's twilight," she said with a weak voice "the end of another day, the return of the night." Her voice sounded far away, as if she wasn't speaking from the present, I turned to look at her and saw her eyes brimming with tears._

"_Are you okay mommy?"_

_She quickly wiped away the tears that had escaped and looked at me with a weak smile._

"_I'm fine, sweetie." She looked at the horizon smiling, more genuinely this time. _

I gazed at the sky, new tears filling my eyes and the pain that had only just begun to subside filled my chest again and forced me to sit on the wet grass and clutch at my sides. Soon the pain began to subside again but I was still finding it hard to breathe normally. I put my palms to my face, enveloping my nose and mouth to restrict the air flow coming into my lungs. _Iiiiiin. Ooooooout. Iiiiiin. Ooooooout. _I recited to myself and felt my heart rate slow.

I thought back to the funeral. Her death was not a shock to most people, the onset of the disease and the prediction of her health only continuing to deplete gave people time to prepare. In that it wasn't a horrible, crying ceremony. People were quite and calm, dealing in their own ways, the worst of which had passed earlier, when she was still with us. I never thought there were a lot of people in her life, but today proved me wrong as I saw her father's house almost over-flowing with mourners. I was introduced to a few, and others I had met before. There was Jessica Newton, a lady who even in this emotional atmosphere found the time to gossip. She was married to Michael Newton who was absolutely devastated today. I saw Angela and Ben Cheney, a very nice and polite couple who I had met on a few rare occasions. Then there were all of Uncle Jake's friends from the Quileute Reservation at La Push, who I had met and had dinner with numerous times.

There were a lot of people who I wasn't introduced to, or faces I was only vaguely familiar with. There were some of mom's college friends, old work friends, new work friends, hospital friends. It seemed that a select few from everywhere she'd been had showed up and altogether they made a very large group of people who knew and loved her.

There was one face, however that stood out from the rest of the crowd, but only for a moment because when I turned back to look for it again I couldn't find it anywhere. The face was almost completely hidden behind a black laced veil hanging from a small black hat which covered her short, choppy, ink black hair. Underneath all the black, however, I saw an astonishingly pale face staring at the tomb stone. She wasn't crying, she was just standing there, detached from everyone and still as a statue. I wanted to find out who she was but when I tried looking for her she was no where to be seen.

By now I was breathing normally and my hands were at the bottom of my shirt; scrunching and wringing it. I stood up and began walking. As I did so I thought of what my mother had said to me during one of her last days.

"_Don't you dare let the end of my life stop yours. You have to live on, begin a new chapter, get up onto your feet and start fresh with a clean slate."_

I fought the tears back and sighed deeply. This was where this chapter had to end and my life without my best friend, my rock and my mother had to begin.


	3. New

**YAY, I finally got this chapter done, it took a lot of decision making. **

**I'm scared I did a lot of this wrong. REVIEW Be brutal, I deserve it. However if you like it: STILL REVIEW so I'm inspired to write a new Chapter sooner. PLEASE tell me what you think.**

NEW

"Alice, are you sure you've thought this through?" Uncle Jake asked me for what felt like the billionth time in the past few weeks.

"Like I said yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, and the one before that, and also the one before that –"

"Okay, I get it, I get it." He sighed in defeat looking at me with saddened eyes.

"Yes, Uncle Jake. I need to get out, do something new and exciting. I've thought about this enough, and I'm dead set sure about this." I did my best to smile at him confidently.

"I'm just not sure you're ready for this kind of thing Alice, I don't want you to be alone." He picked at his spaghetti; it was an unusual thing to see Uncle Jake not tossing down his meal ferociously like he usually did.  
I sighed and looked at the fork that was shaking in my hand from my sudden onset of trembling. I wasn't ready at all, and him reminding me of in fact how little I was ready for this brought back that horrible feeling of dread and fear that began at my chest and flowed down filling up my stomach.

"Of course I'm not ready," I put my fork down, and looked up at him. "but like I said, this is something I have to do. Hurry up and finish your food now, or else Aunt Louise will think you're sick." I looked pointedly at his full plate. He picked up his own fork and swallowed a mouthful of spaghetti in defeat. At that I got up from the table, trying to conceal my also full plate of spaghetti and emptied it into the bin. I left Uncle Jake to his meal and went to the room I was staying in.

***

After I returned from my little expedition during mom's funeral I fell into Uncle Jake's arms and didn't move or talk for almost a week. How's that for a new chapter of my life. He and Aunt Louise kindly gave me a room in their already cramped house and told me I could stay however long I wanted to. This turned into a whole three months. After that first week I decided to take control. I went back to mine and my late mother's apartment hoping to begin my life again there, but after standing motionless in the doorway for fifteen minutes I soon figured out that would be near impossible, I mean I could barely _step inside_ my old home alone, let alone live there. I hastily returned to my sanctuary in Uncle Jake's house and stayed there barely moving for a further several days. If it wasn't for those words that kept repeating themselves over and over again in my head I would have never ever moved. But they kept making me feel like I was failing her, disrespecting her wishes. "_You have to live on, begin a new chapter, get up onto your feet and start a clean slate."_ It replayed over and over like a broken record. It's what made me get up again and return to the apartment. I already knew I wasn't going to stay there, but I still had things that needed to be done, no matter how much it hurt.

It took me a whole two weeks to get everything done, sometimes Uncle Jake would come with me, and other times I'd be alone. I was selling all the furniture on eBay. I donated all her clothes to the nearest second hand shop to her house. As I was looking through her jewelry I found an envelope addressed to me, normally this kind of thing would have me dying with curiosity but I just tossed it aside knowing that if I thought about it now I would need to go through the recovery process yet again and I knew that this time it would be even harder.

Eventually I had three suitcases or clothes and other small things I didn't want to throw away to take back to Uncle Jake's house, as well as two big boxes filled with photo albums, old videos, and a small amount of old books I'd read and reread and would probably reread again later.

That night as I was going through the book's I happened upon my mother's 'much-abused' copy of _Wuthering Heights_ that she's had since before I was even born. As a birthday present one year I got her a new copy of it but after showing much delight she still neglected it for her old one. A few tears escaped my eyes at the happy memories and her words repeated yet again in my mind: "_You have to live on, begin a new chapter, get up onto your feet and start a clean slate." _I _was_ living on. Couldn't she see?

"I am beginning again." I said aloud to the empty room. "Clean slates are not that easy to get I hope you know." My voice broke on the 'hope'. "You're not helping me like you promised." I yelled this time. My face was screwed up in pain and the tears were now flowing.

Yet another night I spent crying. Yet another night I failed her with my failed attempt at starting over.

In the morning I opened _Wuthering Heights_ to a random page and began to read. They were talking about London and it hit me. I grabbed my purse and car keys.

I returned from Seattle by the time it was dark and found Uncle Jake and Seth Clearwater watching TV.

"Hi Alice!" Seth greeted me cheerfully.

"Hey," I replied, then looked uncertainly and Uncle Jake.

"Where'd you go?" he asked casually not moving his eyes from the TV.

"Umm, Uncle Jake," I stammered weakly, scared at how he'd react. "I'm going to England."

"What?" He asked, confused and looked at me trying to read my expression.

"To England… London actually. They speak English there." I said weakly.

"No you're not," he said and then turned back to the TV.

"Yeah I am, I just bought my tickets. My plane leaves in two months. They had a seat available."

"You have no where to stay."

"The lady at the Travel Agency helped me find a place to rent; her whole family was from England so she knew around what area I should stay." This plan was practically a god-send. Everything about it unfolded perfectly from the moment it flew into my mind.

"I'm not letting you go alone anywhere." He raised his voice.

"I just went to Seattle alone." I pointed out.

"And I didn't know about that."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm going, and I don't need your permission and you're not stopping me."

He shot up from the couch.

"Damn it Alice, you can't go alone! I _will_ stop you." I saw his hands trembling with anger.

"You _can't!_ I'm legally an adult, and if you can't handle having me here and not controlling me then I'll leave _now!_" He would not ruin my plan.

The next thing that happened was probably one of the scariest experiences of my life. His whole body began to tremble and his form sort of blurred. Seth's face became horror-stricken as he jumped up from the couch and grabbed onto my uncle.

"CALM DOWN JACOB!" he roared. "Stop. Breathe. Go outside Jacob. GO!"

And then I heard a sound that can only be described as a growl come out of my Uncle's lips then he pulled himself free from Seth's grasp with ease and pushed passed me to the door. I heard it slam.

"Are you okay Alice?" Seth asked me breathlessly.

I nodded with wide eyes. I was crumpled on the couch where I landed after Uncle Jake had pushed me with such force. I was so scared. I had never seen him that mad.

"Didn't you know never to get on Jake's bad side?" Seth asked half-jokingly and turned the volume up again on the TV.

I just sat there, shocked and trembling myself. What had just happened? I wasn't scared at first when Uncle Jake was trembling in anger but Seth's expression had changed my mind. My subconscious realized the severity of the situation and all the danger signals went of in my mind, yet I still could not understand what could have happened that was so horrible if Uncle Jake didn't leave when he had.

"Where did he go?" I asked in a small voice.

"Don't worry; he just needs to calm down a little. He'll be back soon." I noticed how Seth didn't directly answer my question. I got up and walked to my room and lay down on my bed to replay the events that had just occurred.

***

It had taken a lot of persuasion and time to get to where we were now: Uncle Jake finally accepting my decision and me almost completely packed and scared to death at what awaited me at the end of the long plane trip.

**Okay… I have a problem: I've never ever been to London. I'm thinking of renting out movies etc to see what it's like there, but if any of you live in London etc I would GREATLY appreciate some aid in how she'd live there. I know it was probably a stupid move taking the story some place unfamiliar, but Alice needed a clean slate and well how much cleaner can you get?**


	4. Flight

**Thank you especially to a reviewer named Rebecca for telling me not to worry about my fears of being completely lost in London. Thank you as always for everyone who reviewed who I couldn't reply to, keep reading keep telling me what to think, and keep thanking Stephenie Meyer for providing these roots for me to grow into my own version of fanfictiony flowers.**

FLIGHT

We were at the Dulles International airport, me and the only family I had left. I was as ready as I could be which was not very ready at all. I didn't take everything I owned with me so Uncle Jake didn't feel as though I was leaving him for ever. He gave me a big teary hug when we reached the Departures Gate.

"I'll always be here if you want to come back Alice." His voice broke on the 'back'.

"Don't worry Uncle Jake, I will, you know it, why else would I leave without taking Howl?" I said trying to joke. Howl was a wolf toy Uncle Jake had given me for my fourth birthday and from that day onwards everywhere I went, he went. For some reason though my mom didn't seem to approve of the gift very well and I caught them looking at each other with their eyes somewhere in the past sharing old secrets and memories while I was busy playing with my new best friend. This sudden reminder of my mom brought another round of tears and I began crying harder than ever into my uncle's wide shoulders.

"You didn't take Howl?" he asked and I heard a smile in his voice. "However will you live?"

But I couldn't answer; my whole body was shaking with sobs now. What a perfect time to think about _her_.

"Alice, sweetie, it'll be fine, calm down." My sudden hysterics frightened him and held me at arms length to look at my face. Oddly his expression changed to one of recognition but before I could have a better look at it he pulled me closer and kissed my forehead. "It'll be alright, Alice, you'll be fine." His voice was soothing and quite, and I suddenly realized he wasn't talking about my trip.

"I have to go." I said trying to pull away but I was suddenly trapped in a rib crushing hug. "Uncle…Jake…can't…breathe" I managed to splutter.

"Oh, sorry honey." And his arms eased around me. New tears flowed from my eyes as I realized how much I'd miss my big old uncle.

"I'm going to miss you so much Uncle Jake." I repeated my thoughts knowing how much it would do for him to hear them.

"I'll miss you too Bells, I'll miss you so much." He said and I tried to pull away to look at him in shock. He hadn't seemed to notice his mistake. "Do you want to leave already Alice?" he asked loosening his iron grip and letting me look him in the eyes.

"No, it's just…" And then I thought better of it, now was the wrong time to bring her up, for both of us.

"Just what, dear?" he asked concern flooding his features.

"Nothing." I said then I hugged him again, refusing to look him in the eyes as I said this next bit. "I love you Uncle Jake, you do know that?"

"Of course Alice, I love you too, like my own daughter." I was suddenly very glad that I decided to hide my face when he said this, because this exact kind of proclamation was the kind that both my mother's and my grandfather's genes had made me uncomfortable with. However it still hit home and I felt yet another new onset of tears.

"Now, you, get over your crying because you've got a plane to catch, and we don't want you missing it now do we?" But by the way he said this I could tell he hoped very hard that I _would_ miss it.

"Bye Uncle Jake." I said as he let me go and handed my luggage to me. "I'll call you as soon as I get to the new place."

"I hope you enjoy the 'new place'_._" He said those last words they same way I had; uncomfortably and unsurely.

I kissed him on the cheek for the final time and walked away with those fresh new tears, which contained everything I had cried about for the passed few months, flowing down my face without a pause visible in the near future.

The next few hours, or however long it was, passed me by in a daze. I passed the stewardesses, who were at the door to the plane greeting me cheerfully, with a blank expression that faltered their cheery act for a moment. They showed me in the right direction to my seat and it was only when I had found it, put my hand-luggage into the over head compartment and seated myself into it that I realized where I was and what exactly I was doing. The new shock doubled the density of my tears but this time I didn't fall into the haze, I stayed completely aware thinking over everything that came into my mind. And only when the plane was at cruising altitude did I realize that I was running away.

I wasn't beginning again like I had deluded myself into thinking I was. I was running away from the things that I couldn't handle. And it was at that moment, on a plane, somewhere over the Atlantic that I began to hate myself, and decided to take control the moment my feet touched London ground.

I _would_ begin again, whether I wanted to or not.

**I've been avoiding doing this chapter, because I was scared I'd land in London and be completely lost. Turns out I didn't even end up landing there.**


	5. Sign

**I know, I know, I haven't updated this in a looooong time, but all of you have been giving so much love for 'Nessie Annoyed' and well, I like writing for things that receive love the most (even though this one has a larger part in my heart) so anyway, I have almost 3 new chapters ready, but I'm going to put them up one-by-one…. I'm so excited, these are the good parts (and I love the chapter after this, so ask..no BEG for it to make me happy) xox and oh dear god I just realised how short this chapter is, originally the three were combined or at least two and half, but they turned out to be too much longer than my average length so I chopped them up so I'm sorry.**

On a usual day I would have enjoyed the sights, I would have been amazed at the fact that I was actually _in _London – traveling had always interested me – but today I walked through the airport, out the airport, into a taxi, to my new apartment, through my front door and then – then I didn't know what to do. My first instinct was to fall onto the floor, and cry my eyes out yet again. But I couldn't, I had made myself a promise, and I _would _begin again. I would _not_ turn into an emotional ghost. I would _not_ lose my place in the world.

With this new energy I decided to go for a walk, look around my new neighborhood. A quick glance around my small apartment reminded me of my current and most urgent need: furniture. Uncle Jake had told me we should ship some over for when I got here but I insisted it was not worth the effort, what was the point of starting afresh with old furniture? Thinking about it now I realized that a bed would not have been a bad thing to have already.

"Hello?" Uncle Jake's warm voice answered after the fourth ring, I already missed the sound of it.

"Hello Jacob." I said in my best English accent, which was, in fact, a horrible one. He recognized my voice and answered in his own horrible accent.

"Oh good evening Alice Swan, where might you be right now?" I was calling him from my cell as I walked down the street my apartment was on.

"I am enjoying the streets of London's best, and wondering if you might be of assistance in telling me where I can find a furniture store." I dropped the accent.

"Ahh, the floor isn't comfortable enough for Princess Alice, I should have known." He laughed. "How was the flight? Was everything alright?" he asked as I heard him shuffling papers; looking for the map that we had bought together long before I left, studied, added our own notes and keys in.

"The plane crashed Uncle Jake; I don't know how I made it out alive." I said dramatically.

"I should have known something like that would happen, your mother's genes haven't been working wonders for you." He laughed again. "Found it! Now where are you?"

I told him where I walking.

"According to this map," he said slowly, "there should be a main street with shops about three blocks away."

Uncle Jake and I continued to talk as I tried to make my way to the main street. I got lost a few times, ending up at dead ends or busy and un-crossable roads. When I finally made it Uncle Jake forced me to ask someone if there was a furniture store around here somewhere. Knowing that there probably wouldn't be, and wanting something unique I also asked if there was a second hand shop nearby. It turned out that there were both and I walked excitedly in the direction the kind stranger pointed me to.

When I entered the large furniture store, describing to Uncle Jake the unexpected size of it, he decided to leave me alone to shop and promised to call back later that night. After having been in both stores – finding a comfortable but cheap double bed and a few other things in the furniture store, then a bookcase, a dining table set and a brilliant tacky floral sofa in the second hand shop – I crossed the street to an electronic store I had spotted earlier. There I bought myself a small fridge, a tiny TV, and some lamps and telephone for my apartment.

It was twilight when I was on my way home. I gazed up at the sky, looking like a lunatic to passers by but I didn't care. It was so wonderful that wherever I was, this time of day would always be the same, the only thing in my life that would always be the same. The choking sensation in my throat informed me that I stupidly began thinking in a dangerous area and I immediately tried to find something to distract myself with. The day had passed so smoothly, so easily, liked before this whole stupid mess. It was just a matter of keeping myself adequately distracted. I walked on, trying to think of something else, but my brain wouldn't allow it and the choking sensation never ceased. I prayed for a distraction, looking around with alertness, analyzing everything I set my eyes on. That was when I happened across that sign. It wasn't large, or attention grabbing. It wasn't in a place many people could see it, and I probably would never have noticed it if I wasn't looking around so eagerly. I don't know what drew me to it, it wasn't even anything that had called to me in the past, but for some reason my subconscious willed me to it and I found myself standing in front of it reading and re-reading the eight-lined black and white sign. The first two lines had "French Lessons," written in large capitals. It was an hour's lesson every Tuesday night at eight-thirty for a very, very cheap price. It was the perfect thing for a very, very, lonely person looking for a distraction. I thought about what day it was and realized that it was Tuesday and a quick look at my watch told me it was six-thirty. I sped up, eager now to get home and was there in less than ten minutes.


	6. Collision Course

**Tell me the truth: are the conversations realistic? Please review, please let me know what you think. The next chapter is not far from complete.**

COLLISION COURSE

I was rushing up the stairs to my third floor apartment and on the second landing bumped into a girl around my age holding a large pile of boxes filled with important-looking papers.

"Shoot, I'm such a klutz. I'm so, so sorry." I apologized when she dropped most of the things she was holding because of my genetic klutz-disorder.

"It's okay," she said cheerily as she bent down to pick up the important-looking papers. "Serves the dickhead right for telling me to get them into alphabetical order an hour before he's meant to have them."

"Oh my god, they were in alphabetical order?" I asked, feeling a deep crimson colour my face. Why was I such an idiot?

"It's alright," she laughed, "between the two of us we'll get this back to normal in no time," She sat down cross-legged on the first stair above the landing and I joined her there. Even though I would've offered anyway I still wondered how she was so confident in assuming I'd help. "I'm Vanessa, by the way." She said, holding out a hand covered in rings and bracelets.

"Alice." I said quietly, shaking her hand.

"Oh, you're the American Mr. Brandon was talking about." She said looking at me curiously.

"Mr. Brandon?" I asked. I wasn't sure if I had heard the name before.

"He's the super, he knows _everything_ about _everyone_, or so he thinks." She rolled her eyes, "old man gossips worse than my own grandmother and half of it is just plain lies he made up himself because his own life is too boring." I wasn't really listening to what she was saying; I was listening to the way she talked. I loved the sound of her accent, and her chatter which didn't seem as though it could end soon. It felt so good to meet a person my age who was so easy-going, so unburdened by life like I always felt I was.

"So whereabouts in America are you from?" she asked, noticing my distracted expression.

"Washington." I answered quietly.

"Are you here by yourself or with family?" she was trying to probe me into talking; it looked as though she liked my accent as much as I liked hers.

"Um, no. I'm all alone." As soon as I said it I instantly regretted it. The way I said it made her see that I was more than just alone in an apartment.

"Oh." she breathed.

We sat quietly for a few minutes, organizing the papers alphabetically like she showed me.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. I looked up at her, confused. "I always say the wrong thing, I can barely ever shut myself up, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have probed," she was about to continue before I cut her off.  
"What are you talking about? 'Always say wrong thing'?" I quoted, "You said the perfectly right thing, I'm just a melodramatic idiot who's 'all alone'." I laughed nervously.

"Well you may be that, but I'm a lost hippie with foot-in-mouth disease." We both laughed and continued sorting.

The conversation continued, flowing very easily, and I found out Vanessa lived two apartments away from me, she was my age, she had lived away from her parents for the past six years and many other little things that had kept the conversation away from me. We were interrupted by heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Oh no, we better move this." I said reaching for the papers.

"Don't worry." Vanessa stopped me, taking the papers herself and putting them into the boxes. "They're good enough now, I can't be bothered doing anymore anyway." She stood up and I piled the boxes into her hands.

"Come around for breakfast tomorrow morning." She offered. "It was nice talking to you and I doubt you have any food." I was preparing to refuse but then I realized that I in fact didn't have any food, nor did I have a fridge, or a bed. I looked at my watch and realized we'd be on those stairs for over an hour. The delivery people were meant to come half an hour ago. I heard thuds on the stairs and saw two men hauling up a large box.

"Excuse me," they said when they reached the landing I was standing on.

"Bye." Vanessa called to me as she rushed around them.

"I think that's for me," I said to the man.

The other took out a clipboard.

"Are you a Miss Alice Swan?" He asked.

"Yeah," I answered and led them up to my apartment.

They wheeled the box that contained my fridge to my kitchen and then two more delivery men arrived with my bed. I signed for both pieces of my new furniture and thanked the men. A glance at my watch told me it was eight already. I cursed when I realized I had forgotten to shower after the flight in my hastiness to leave the apartment. After having retrieved the toiletries kit I got from my plane I found the bathroom and without even bothering to look around it, hopped into the shower cabin.

Time flew by and by the time I was out of the apartment, with my hair still wet and my stomach rumbling, it was already eight thirty.


	7. Educateur

**Ahh alas, not what I was hoping for, but a story needs to stretch out, worry not my kind readers and reviewers, more to come very, very soon….gahh it's too late in the night time for me to be netteracting. it becomes hard for people to understand me. **

**As always: You know what to do.**

EDUCATEUR

"Entrée, entrée!" A cheery, musical voice sounded from the other side of the door as I knocked uncertainly. I was ten minutes late and my heart was pounding furiously against my chest, due to me running majority of the way and the dragonflies that were exercising very vigorously in my stomach at that moment. I took a deep breath and slowly opened the door.

"Sorry I'm late." I said quietly.

"Désolée pour le retard." The teacher said back. I didn't look up at him as I was trying to hide my bright crimson face.

I was about to take another step before he spoke again.

"Repeat it." He said kindly, but with a hint of a command.

"Day solay pur le raytard?" I tried.

He laughed; it was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard in my life.

"It seems we have a foreigner in our class. What is your name, foreigner?" then he repeated himself in French to the class. "Comment vous appelez-vous mademoiselle l'étrangère?"

"Alice Swan." I said as I looked up at him. And when I did my heart stopped beating, and the dragonflies froze, and the whole world just came to a stand still. I was introducing myself to an angel.

"Well Mademoiselle Swan, I'm Louis Cullen. Please, take a seat." He gestured to an empty spot in the back. It took me a moment to unfreeze and I walked to the seat he had pointed to. As I was walking I tripped on a cord from a stereo that was plugged into the wall. But before I fell, face first into the ground a pair of strong and sure hands caught me. Their touch sent electric pulses through me and it took me a moment to regain feeling in my skin and register the icy temperature of the hands, by then they were gone. I looked at the person who caught me, knowing before I even saw that it was Louis Cullen.

"Thank you," I mumbled, not quite looking him in the eyes, and continued carefully to the seat.

"Let's continue." He began and then said a phrase in French which the class repeated. The lesson continued, but I paid absolutely no attention to what was going on. Somebody could have come up to me at the end and asked me how I enjoyed the midget rodeo halfway through the lesson and I would not have been surprised that I missed it. I was hypnotized by this man. He was beyond beautiful. Everything about him was more amazing than anything I'd ever seen in my life. His skin was as white as snow – that could explain the temperature. His face was perfectly symmetrical; it was a face any male model would trade his soul for. His eyes were an astonishingly liquid gold colour that I could see even from my seat far from the front. When he smiled – which he did often – it lit up the entire room, his teeth were amazing and he got these lines that didn't crinkle his face, but on the contrary emphasized every extra-beautiful feature about him. I could have gone on and on about his perfection. I could have filled a whole novel. I filled a whole hour, just staring at him.

"Don't waste your time sweetie." A rounded woman came up to me at the end of the class, she saw my confused expression and added "Or at least get in line." I still couldn't understand what she was talking about.

"I've been going to this class for the past two years; haven't learnt a single thing." A tall and dark-skinned woman came to join our conversation.

"I have," a third piped up, I turned around to see a middle-aged woman with bleached blond hair and a bright red blouse with a neckline that exaggerated breasts which in no way could be real. "Voulez vous couchez avec moi?" The rest all laughed.

"Ladies, please, stop embarrassing yourselves," A male voice interrupted their laugher "Il est clairement homosexual!" he said with a perfect French accent. I had to laugh along with all the other ladies, even though I had no idea of what he said.

"Sandy stop showing off!" A second man piped up, he was tanned, with a hairstyle that you see on Vogue models, wearing an outfit you'd only ever expect to find on a daring fashion runway.

We all walked out of the building together laughing and the man whose name was Sandy continuing to 'show off' with his French remarks. He was a petite man with a tidy baby blue collared shirt tucked into red and white checkered pants. It was impossible not to fall in love with him instantly.

"Au revoir Monsieur Sexy." Sandy said in the direction of a fancy car driving away.

"Au revoir." Everyone repeated in a quiet chorus and then sighed together. I laughed at them.

"You can't laugh honey, we all saw you gawking at him _all_ lesson." The round woman spoke again.

"I wasn't _gawking_." I denied, turning red at being caught.

"Oh please, you were practically drooling." Sandy said as the other man did an impression of my face which was probably uncanny as they all burst out laughing.

"I don't drool." I said, pouting.

"How dare you accuse us of lying missy when you don't even know our names." The blonde woman scolded with an approving smile on her face.

"Je m'appelle Sandy. But you probably already knew that." Sandy said happily prancing into a hug I was not expecting.

"I'm Fred." Chuckled the second man holding out his hand and as soon as I reached to shake it he pulled me in and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "That's how the French do it." He laughed and everyone joined in.

"Sharon." Said the woman that was the first one to speak to me today, I shook her hand.

"My name is Janine." The tallest woman said.

"I'm Gemma." the woman with the plunging neckline was next to introduce herself.

"She's what the French call _une salope._" Sandy whispered loudly to me.

Gemma pushed him. "Shut up Sandy," then she looked at me and added in a whisper followed by a giggle, "It's true though."

"Leave the poor girl alone." Sharon said.

"Where do you live anyway?" Fred asked, looking at me.

I told them my address.

"Why do you want to live dans ce trou for?" Of course it was Sandy who used the French.

"Enough is enough Sandy, none of us understand or care for all your French rubbish." Janine said angrily.

"Well maybe you should pay attention dans le cours de francais." Sandy answered, his voice getting higher with each word.

Janine slapped him lightly across the head.

"Well, I better get going, my boyfriend's probably waiting up for me, poor little thing." Gemma told us as she put on her coat, "Bye all."

We exchanged "goodbye"s and "nice-to-meet-you"s and of course an "_enchaté"_ from Sandy and each or us departed from outside that small building, each eagerly awaiting the next time we'd get to see Louis Cullen.


	8. Friendship

**This one's longer because of all the conversation. It's a lifestyle one, maybe what you're awaiting is what will come in the next chapter. Review as always to get more sooner.**

**And a regular thank you to Stephenie Meyer for bringing us the root of this story.**

FRIENDSHIP

I woke with a start. I could feel my heartbeat racing, my breathing was shallow and my mouth felt really dry. I wiped the sweat off my brow and got out off bed. It was four in the morning but no way could I get back to bed after a dream like that. I walked shakily to the tap in my kitchen, deciding that I needed a glass of water, and then I realized something; I had no glasses. Urgh, this was turning out to be a horrible day. I bent over, craning my head to fit under the tap and turned it on.

"Uhghgh!" I groaned and spat the disgusting tap water back into the sink.

I stumbled back to my room and fell on my bed, crying at my own pathetic-ness.

The sunlight from my un-curtained window burned my eyes and forced me to wake up.

"Mmmm." I grumbled and rubbed my eyes remembering the events from earlier this morning. God, I was such a douche bag, who _cries_ when they can't get a drink of water. I looked at my watch and my stomach rumbled. I laughed to myself.

"It's _breakfast_ time." I said aloud. Right, I was definitely going crazy… And hungry. I realized that not only did I not have crockery; I also didn't have anything edible, except for maybe a few sugar lollies from the plane trip. I remembered Vanessa's invitation which I was planning to decline but my body won that argument and I went to my untouched suitcase to pick out an outfit.

"It's open." Called a cheery voice called from inside, I walked unsurely into Vanessa's apartment.

"Um, Vanessa?" I called.

"Hi!" she appeared in front of me wearing a bathrobe and slippers that were little toy kittens. I laughed when I saw them.

"Nice slippers." I said; feeling very over dressed in my jeans and floral print shirt.

"Nice shirt," she replied happily, "I'm so glad you came. I didn't know if you'd come or not, so I didn't know how much food to make, so I was like should I make more when she comes, or make lots straight away and bring it to you later, cold, so you'd feel bad for turning me down. Come in, come in." she gestured.

"I brought sugar lollies." I offered her the half empty packet.

"Ooh goodie!" she exclaimed, grabbing them off me and returning to the kitchen.

Vanessa talked to herself while she cooked – it made me feel better about my sanity from this morning – and then talked to me while we ate. The food, which was a delicious omelet, did not stop her talking for a second. She was probably the most cheerful person I'd ever met in my life. It was almost heart-breaking to pause her when my cell phone rang.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Alice! Good evening honey!" Uncle Jake said happily.

"Good morning," I corrected.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm having breakfast." I said as I had another bit of my omelet. Vanessa was taking this time to eat most of hers.

"How?" he asked, shocked.

"With a friend." I answered, keeping my answers with minimal detail to keep him in suspence.

"A _friend?" _

"Don't sound so shocked Uncle Jake, I have friends." I said making my voice sound annoyed.

"In _England?_" He still seemed shocked.

"In my _building_." I whispered.

"Good work!" He said happily, "What's his name? What does he –"

"_She_, Uncle Jake," I cut him off, "She is sitting right near me, eager to hear what I'm going to say about her, so I'll call you later and we'll talk then okay?"

"Wait, wait." He shouted as I began to say goodbye. "Just letting you know that the house has received some amazing offers and we're probably going to accept one soon."

"Oh," was all I said, I knew straight away that he meant my grandfather's house because we had decided that the best thing now would be to sell it.

"I'll let you know how it turns out." He said quietly.

"It's okay, I trust you." Then I put a smile into my voice "I'll call you later okay?"

"Bye Alice."

"Love you Uncle Jake." And I hung up. I took a deep breath and turned back to Vanessa.

"Your omelet is cold now." She said, leaning back into her seat after having gotten a piece of it for herself.

"It also seems to be missing more than what I had eaten." I laughed as I picked up my plate to put in the sink. It was so easy to laugh with Vanessa. "So what are the plans for today?" I asked her.

"Today is my weekend," she began.

"Really?"

"No, but I can't be bothered coming in, and I already worked overtime yesterday so I'm free to accompany you for any errands you need to run."

"Well after the fiasco from earlier this morning," I began, thinking back to four in the morning.

"Which fiasco?"

I told her about my morning adventure and she agreed that I definitely needed some glasses and or bottles of water.

"What was your dream about?" she asked curiously.

I thought back to when I woke up, sweating, my heart beating like crazy.

"I-I'm not sure," I began, "It seems so stupid now, but it was of this woman running from my French teacher," Vanessa laughed at this. "But it was scarier than that, because he kept catching her, and his eyes were this horrible vivid red colour." I shuddered. It _was _as horrible as I remembered thinking it was.

"Maybe it's warning you, you should pay more attention in your French class. How was that anyway?" I thought it was something more; of course what Vanessa didn't know was that I left out the part of who the young woman was. The sheer terror on my mother's face was something I was not going to forget soon. I shuddered again.

"That bad, huh?" I realized Vanessa was still waiting for an answer. I began telling her about the French lesson while she went to get dressed. She emerged ten minutes later, dressed in brown patterned maxi dress, with more rings and bracelets than yesterday.

We spent the rest of the day buying me more household necessities. I had never realized but Vanessa was really pretty, but she wasn't a conventional beauty, instead, like everything else about her, she made up her own rules for beauty. Her hair was dyed red-brown and it stopped just below her shoulders, it had many different layers which were messy and uneven curls. She had bright blue eyes, full, pale pink lips and a small nose. She wore barely any makeup, because she didn't need it. The male passers by proved me right when they stared at her, some even turning back to get another look. She had a sort of magnetism that brought people to her. I found myself talking and laughing non-stop.

When I got home at the end of the day I thanked whoever brought this life-saving angel to me.


	9. Package

**9. PACKAGE**

Three weeks had passed. The old house in Washington had been sold. I was getting into a routine. My apartment was filled with everything I needed, Fred from the French class had gotten me a job as assistant in his studio, I still continued attending the French classes, I became very good friends with the group I met on my first day there, Gemma; the woman Sandy had described as 'une salope' (which turned out to mean 'a slut') had a new boyfriend who worked at a car dealership and got me a discount on an already cheap car. I was already driving, trying my hardest to get used to the wrong side. Vanessa and I were the best of friends, breakfast became a daily activity for us, sometimes we'd meet up for lunch, other times one of us would just go over to the other's apartment to hang out. Routine felt great, it kept me busy and happy. Of course I still thought about _her_ but now that I had good and understanding friends, a lifestyle that I felt was a good crack at 'starting again', and Uncle Jake who also began to mention her more often, it was not as hard as it had been at the start.

Today was Tuesday. I had returned from work and Fred told me that we were planning on having dinner before the French Class. There was a knock at the door while I was getting ready.

"Yes?" I said as I opened the door, it was a delivery man holding a cardboard box. Uncle Jake had told me he was sending some more things over but he said he wanted to leave it as a surprise. I figured he just didn't want me saying that it was not worth it and that I didn't need whatever he was planning on sending.

I accepted the package and sat down on the sofa to open it. Photo albums, I should have known. He kept trying to force me to take them, but I refused, knowing that it would be too hard. But I was stronger now. Surely it would do me good to look at them. I was about to pick one up when I noticed an envelope stashed into the side of the box. I sighed as I went to try and get it out, wondering what sort of things Uncle Jake had written to me. However when I finally got the big yellow envelope out, it felt as though it contained more than just a letter, and I saw Uncle Jake's handwriting on a note stuck to the front.

"**Alice,**

**The people who moved into the house found this under one of the floorboards of your mom's old bedroom, I haven't opened it. Please don't ignore it sweetie. Call me if you need me.**

**I love you. Uncle Jake. **"

I felt tears come to my eyes as I imagined her, in her old bedroom hiding an unknown package from her father. I never took her to be the sneaky type and it was solely my curiosity that compelled me to open the envelope. I didn't know what I was expecting it to be but what was inside came as a surprise. I tipped out the contents, my confusion growing with each object. Why would my mother hide these things? There was a CD and a few photographs. I didn't want to look at photos, not just yet, but I felt that it would be the only thing that could explain this mystery treasure. The first photo was of someone I couldn't recognize at all, I laid it to the side. The next one contained two people, one of which was the boy in the previous photo. I looked closely and recognized my grandfather, young and handsome, but his looks were dimmed by the god standing next to him. I hadn't paid attention to the first photograph, but I looked closed now. His beauty was almost impossible to comprehend. He had messy bronze hair, his facial features were perfect and angular, his eyes – a colour I couldn't put my finger on – stood out so brightly, yet there was something oddly pained about his expresion. I could have studied his glorious face for days. It was a beauty that no one else's could compare to. And then I thought of someone who could. It was an odd thing to do but I began noticing the similarities between my French teacher, Louis Cullen, and this mystery boy in the photograph.

I went to pick up the next photograph but I glanced at the watch on my wrist and realized I was about to be late for dinner.

As I ran out the door, my hand reached out to my coffee table and grabbed the CD. I'd listen to it in the car, maybe it'd have some sort of clue as to who the boy in the pictures was.

As I put my key into the ignition after the French class the CD came on, playing a beautifully composed lullaby on the piano. I had to admit, I was pretty disappointed when that had first come on after I shakily inserted it into the player. Just like with the package, I was unsure of what I was expecting, but this piano piece had come as a shock. I only got to listen to a tiny bit of it before I was at the building for the French class but it had been enough to hear how beautiful it was.

Fred had explained to me how to get to the restaurant that we were having dinner at, and as I was about to drive away, with the lullaby as my background music, a figure appeared next to my window. I jumped at how unexpected it was and then saw that it was Louis Cullen.

"Umm, bon nuit?" I said as I rolled down the window to see what he wanted.

"Bon nuit Alice." He began, his face was an expression I had never seen before. It was confused and shocked and very, very curious.

"Is everything alright?" I asked when he didn't speak.

"I was just wondering where you got the music you're listening to from." That question caught me off guard. It was as unexpected as it was out of the blue. And I wondered how he had managed to hear the music from where he was standing, especially since my windows had all been rolled up and I was only playing it softly.

"Uh, my uncle sent it to me." I stammered as his intense gaze burned into my eyes, trying to find something that wasn't there. He opened his mouth to ask something else then thought better off it. He said a stiff "Au revoir" before quickly walking away. I sat in my car, staring in the direction he had left for a few seconds, before turning back to the steering wheel and backing out of my parking spot.

On my way to the restaurant I listened to the lullaby harder than ever, as if trying to figure out some sort of a secret message. Something deep inside me told me that strange was going on, and I was sure it involved the beautiful by in the photograph, the music I was listening to and my French teacher, Louis Cullen.


	10. Revelation

**The idea for this chapter hit me the same time as a wave of paranoia. Enjoy.**

REVELATION

I was the last one to exit the restaurant we had all gone to. I had parked my car in a different car park to everyone else and after saying our goodbyes I headed off in the direction of my car. It was a quiet night and I enjoyed my short peaceful walk. As I was nearing my car I saw a man with a broken arm struggling to get boxes out of the back of his van. He didn't hear me approach and dropped the box out of his hands when I asked him whether I could help.

"Well now, I wouldn't want to burden a nice young lady like yourself with a dirty man's job." He said as he clumsily set the box he had dropped the right way.

"Nonsense, I'm a strong lady and I'm happy to help." I smiled and he smiled back.

"If you insist."

"I do."

He showed me which box he was having trouble with reaching. It was farther back in the van and I needed to get fully inside before I could reach it.

"Wow, these are he-"

And as I turned to exit his broken arm flew at my face punching me to the ground. The next thing I heard was the door slamming.

_Oh God, oh no, oh no._ I felt my mind urging my mouth to scream, my hands to pull me up, but the unexpected attack had me frozen on the ground. I felt the van shake to the side as he climbed in roughly, but a second later it shook to the other side and I heard what I thought was a large rock hitting the pavement.

"Geroff me!" I heard my attacker's unfamiliarly angry voice yell. I heard something what sounded like the a human body hit the ground further from the truck.

The door opened and cold hands seized me carefully pulling me out of my short-term prison.

"Are you alright?" asked a worried, musical voice that I recognized instantly.

"Louis?" I asked as he quickly strode to my car, still carrying my heavy body as though it was merely an over-sized pillow.

He placed me carefully into the passenger seat of my car and quicker than was possible was sitting in the driver's seat next to me.

"How did you –" I began but he interrupted me; asking where I lived. I told him then tried again.

"How did you know to save me?" I asked watching his face as he stared intently out the front window.

"I heard you." He answered simply.

"I didn't scream." I recollected.

"I heard you talking to that…man." He struggled on the last word.

"And you guessed I needed to be saved from helping a disabled stranger?"

"He wasn't disabled." Louis avoided my question.

"How did you know?" I asked again.

"When you didn't come out -" fierce pain coloured his features "I heard him slam the door and couldn't see you anywhere." At first his answer satisfied me but then another, even more confusing question crossed my mind.

"Why were you there?" I asked, not once looking away from him during my interrogation.

"Why do you keep asking questions?" He turned to stare at me and my gaze surrendered as I turned quickly to look out my window.

"I was just walking past." He answered simply again.

I opened my mouth to ask another question but he spoke before me.

"We're here." I looked outside and, though it was impossible to have gotten to my house so quickly from the restaurant, we really were there.

"I don't know how to thank you." I said as tears began to fill my eyes when the shock from the event wore off and I began to comprehend what I had barely escaped.

"Just be careful. Please." He said and swiftly wiped the tear that was crawling down my cheek. His cold fingers left a scorching line on my face where they had made contact. I yearned to lean in.

"See you next Tuesday, Alice. Au revoir." My faced saddened as I sighed and got out of the car.

"Thank you." I said just before I closed the door, but my voice was so broken that I doubted he heard me.

***

The man with the cast around his arm was standing on the other side of what looked like a ballet studio. He smiled at me expectantly, his eyes a hungry red. In a second he had jumped and was standing in front of me, his broken arm perfectly healed. He threw me to the ground as I cried for help, there was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, that I had seen a scene like this before. Suddenly a creature, glorious, graceful and beautiful landed beside my attacker, throwing him off my bleeding body. His eyes, a butterscotch colour, looked at me with a pained restraint as he tried to pull me up.

I woke up, disoriented by the dark before realizing it was still the middle of the night. My dream had been what caused me to wake up. It was the illogical night that caused me to connect the puzzle pieces that had been lying so patiently in my mind – pale, cold skin, ageless beauty, super strength and now this dream that I now realized was one of my mother's stories, except that the beautiful boy who had saved her was replaced by my own beautiful savior. I tried to remember what she had told me the creatures were and how I'd laughed at her odd version of them.

"Vampire." I said out loud, and my eyes widened.

**It's 'another Twilight' as I have explained before, therefore the events are similar. **

**Also, just a warning, that the way the man had almost captured Alice was actually used to abduct/abuse a young girl. Please be careful about who you help.**


	11. Puzzle

**I hope you still want to read it.**

I couldn't fall back asleep after that. I got out of bed and reached for the light switch, blinking as my eyes adjusted. Deciding to make myself a cup of coffee, even though I was more awake than I've ever been, I made my way to the kitchen.

I paced around the apartment while the water in my kettle boiled. This could not be true. Vampires did not exist. Yet, now that I thought about it, my mother's best stories were only the ones which involved Anthony; they were the only ones with intricate details and the ones she could retell in the exact same way time after time. Perhaps this was the shared secret my mother and Uncle Jake shared.

As I stirred the coffee I checked the time on my 'America' clock. It was eleven in the morning.

The phone rang a few times before a sleepy voice answered.

"Good morning sunshine," I smiled.

"Alice!" He sounded more awake already, "What's up? What time is it over there?"

"Pretty early," I answered dismissively.

"How are you? Did you get the parcel yet?" The box! How did I not think of looking through the yellow envelope again?

"Yeah, I did thanks."

"So what was in that yellow envelope?"

"Just some photos and a CD," I said quickly, "listen, Uncle Jack, I need to ask you something and it may sound a little crazy."

"Are you alright, Alice?" concern flooded his tone.

"Yeah, I'm just not sure how to say this. It's… it's to do with mom."

"Right," there was poorly disguised pain in his voice, like me his wounds were still very raw.

This was probably the first time either of us brought her up and I was already beginning to regret calling my Uncle. The coffee was kicking in and suddenly I wasn't so sure of what now seemed a ridiculous conclusion.

"What is it, Alice?"

"It's just… I was thinking about the stories she used to tell me, do you remember them?" I started off vaguely, testing the waters.

"Of course, the one about the little boy and his porridge used to make you laugh so hard," I heard a nostalgic chuckle.

"Do you remember the ones…" I inhaled, "the ones about the family?"

"Which family?" He asked, although I could tell he already knew.

"With the boy called Anthony and the girl called Marie, and the family who were," I choked on the last word, "vampires?"  
I heard Uncle Jake sigh at the other end.

"Yes, I do, what made you think of them?" He was trying hard to disguise the change of tone in his voice, but it was there, it scared me. I didn't know what to say next.

"Um, I don't know," this didn't seem like a good idea anymore, "listen, don't worry about it. I've got to go but I'll call you later, ok?"

I hung up before he managed to finish his worried goodbye. Uncle Jake's change of voice at the subject confirmed that something wasn't right. I went to the curious yellow envelope on top of the box.

I picked up the photographs that were lying on top of the envelope. The one with just the boy was on top. I examined it, unconsciously bringing it closer to my face. I could almost imagine him saving Marie from the Vampire in the ballet studio and now that I was looking for it, I could see the "bronze tousled hair" the "high cheekbones and strong jaw line" and even the peculiar eyes which my mum had described all those years ago. I turned the photograph over, hoping for a caption or something but it was blank. The photo behind it caught my eye. I hadn't seen the last one and as I brought it to the front I gasped. It was my mother. Younger and with an expression of pure fulfillment I had never seen before, but it was her. She was holding onto him as if he was her source of life, not looking at the camera but up into his hard face. I had never seen pictures of her from this age, nor had I ever heard anything about high school boyfriends. She didn't talk much about high school, but the clear way she idolized him even in this photo, it was visible he was an important part of her life. I could barely look away, and as I did I gazed absently around my apartment mulling over everything I had discovered in these last few days, which was really nothing at all, just a bunch of broken pieces to a puzzle I never imagined existing. As I looked around my eyes landed on the box. And it hit me. It was filled with photo albums; maybe there'd be more of this boy.

I was searching until after the sun had risen, but all it contained were albums of my birthdays, family celebrations with my grandfather and Uncle Jake, and Mum and David's wedding. In that last one something about David caught my eyes. I found the photo of the boy, which was slowly being buried under the albums I pile messily beside the box, and placed it next to a good one of my father. Of course there was a significant age difference, different facial expressions – David's joyful wedding day smile and the boy's hard face – and David's natural charisma didn't compare to this boy's ageless beauty but there were hints of similarities. My father's odd hair colour was a very near match to the boy's and even his classic facial structure looked like a rough draft for the boy's perfect cheekbones and sharp jaw line. As I stared at the two photos Uncle Jack's words came to mind: _"He reminds me of someone I once knew."_ Could this be him?

I looked back into the box, hoping to find another photo album containing photos of my father but it was empty except for a scrapbook lying on the bottom. I picked it up slowly and opened to a random page. Empty. All the other pages were the same except for the very first, on which a caption under an empty photo sleeve caught my eye, "_Edward Cullen. Charlie's Kitchen. Sept. 13__th__"_ The date was my mother's birthday, but that wasn't what captured my curiosity. Cullen. Where had I heard that name before? And then I remembered. Louis _Cullen_. Things finally began to fall into place. The similarities between the boy and Louis, Louis' curious reaction to the lullaby which I found in the yellow sleeve along with the photos, the feeling of déjà vu after Louis had rescued me from the man I finally realised came from remembering the story when Anthony saved Marie from the drunken men. Anthony and Marie… I suddenly remembered my mother's middle name was Marie. I picked up the photo of my mother and the boy. Could it be that he is Anthony and my mother Marie? I could hardly breathe, I looked down at my hands and realised they were shaking. How could this all be true? How could my mum have had a life that she told me all about through seeming fairytales? And Uncle Jake was in on this too! The memory of him shaking back at his house sprang into my mind and after that our exchange at the airport about Howl, my wolf toy. The Quileute legends; man descending from wolf, the wolves, the red headed vampire, my heart threatened to jump out of my chest as I realised this is all stemmed from truth.

My head began to spin from all this information but my puzzle still had gaping holes and I realised that I needed to find Louis to get the other pieces.


End file.
